Ix was last to climb the long and winding path, over stone and under fallen tree, high into the mountains. He had come this way before; indeed, many, many times before. First, when he had been a young man in his sixteenth year and on his first journey to hunt in the Black Hills. The only young hunter that season, he had followed Elm up to the high pass, the narrow stone ledge, and the secret cave beyond. Later, when Ix was a grown man and leader of the hunt, he would go with Elm and the young hunters for whom the journey was their first. Ix had lost count of the number of times that he had gone, but his questions were still unanswered.

It was a tradition of the tribe that each hunter who came for the first time to the Black Hills would prove himself by making the steep climb with Elm – or, with whichever healer or Shaman had joined the hunting party that year, but for forty years, it had been Elm. The young hunters would sit beneath the tent and hear the old tales told while the fire burned low.

Of course, the ritual was not limited only to the first-time hunters. Any man might come who wished to learn, but most of the older hunters preferred to stay beside the warm campfire, to laugh and sing songs and to tell their tales without the long journey and the grim silence of the caves at their back. Ix was the only man this year to make the journey, and he followed the two boys, Bram and Lom, on their first hunt.

The boys were grim and serious, and Ix was proud of them. Though they were both barely in their fifteenth year, they had hunted well and learned much in the two weeks that they had been in the Black Hills. And they walked with the solemnity that such a night deserved (though, perhaps, also because the older hunters had filled their heads with exaggerated tales of human sacrifice and hidden orc-strongholds in the high hills). There was little danger in this part of the mountains, and tonight, the two young hunters would hear many tales that they had heard before, told around the late-night fires back at the village, and many tales that they had never heard and would never hear again unless they walked once more the path to the hidden cave and sat beneath the tent of the Holy Man.

The first time Ix had made this journey, his uncle had led the hunting party and his father had been newly dead, his body only six months in the frozen ground. The climb had been harder then, and he had been less strong than he was now, but still the cold wind cut through his thin cloak and he thought longingly of the warm tent and the worn stone seat at the top of the hill where he could sit and rest.

Ix smiled as he watched Bram help Lom climb over a large, fallen boulder. Those two would do great things for their village. Bram, especially, was tall and strong for his age; he knew how to help others, which was not an easy thing to teach.

Once, the tradition of journeying to the secret cave may indeed have included sacrifices and prayers to forgotten gods – Ix believed it to be true, but Elm would not confirm his suspicions. Tonight, what was most important was that the two boys would be responsible for building their camp, for setting up their tent and gathering their wood. They would be sent into the narrow valley to find the river and bring back water, to hunt for food and bring back meat. Tonight was a test, and Bram and Lom must show all that they had learned and prove that they could provide for themselves and for others in the wild. The meal that they would prepare and serve to their elders was a symbol of their gratitude for the lessons they had learned.

It was a good tradition and one that Ix was proud to keep. As heir to the Chief, he thought it right that he should be there to congratulate the boys on all they had done, but Ix also joined Elm's party in order to hear again those few tales that could only be heard here. The strange dreams that haunted him had begun that night when he had first slept in the Holy Man's tent and breathed the sweet-smelling smoke of the woodchips. Ix came again and again looking for answers. He was a patient man, but even a patient man grew anxious over time.

Elm and the boys had reached the head of the path and stood now on the narrow, flat space between rock wall and cliff's edge. Ix knew that his dreams were different this year, and that they came more earnestly to him in the dark hours of the night. He felt the change in the air and in the ground, like the rumble of thunder at the edge of a storm.

Ix joined Elm on the flat land. Bram and Lom had already been sent down into the valley to hunt. Elm smiled at him, and Ix felt sure that the old healer guessed more of what was in his heart than he knew himself.

Elm nodded and eased himself down to sit on a long, flat stone. Lom had laid a folded deerskin over it. There was a wolf's skin folded over another stone nearby, but Ix moved it to a different stone, the same seat he always took for he knew that it was the one that his father had used before him.

"It was wise of Orn to lead us into the mountains to look for better game," Elm said. "We will bring much meat home to our village, and many skins far warmer than those found upon the plain."

"It was very wise indeed," Ix agreed. The old man knew as well as he who had given the order to move the camp, but it was Orn's reputation that would profit from the choice that Ix had made. "Orn is a good hunter. Next season when I must remain behind and learn from my uncle how to be Chief, he will lead the men. I am glad to leave them in such good hands."

"It will be strange to sit upon this stone and not have you seated at my elbow, little Chief," Elm said.

"I will miss the tales that you tell, old friend."

Elm nodded. "It is cold now, but the night will be warm." He looked up at the clear, blue sky. "Strange weather for this time of year…"

"Much has been strange on this journey," Ix agreed. "I have lost count of all the omens, good and bad. There were too many to read, and I am no longer sure of what tomorrow brings."

"Something new," Elm told him. "Always, the dawn brings something new."

.

Elm threw the woodchips onto the smoldering embers and Ix shut tight the flap of their tent. Bram and Lom had done well on their hunt and the small party had feasted well on rabbit and pheasant, but now was the time for tale-telling. The sun had gone down and the smoke began to gather within the walls of the tent. Already, Elm had led the boys back along the narrow path to the secret cave and shown them the drawings and the runes that no man read. Bram had come back solemn, and Lom was more than a little afraid, but both were eager for the tales they would hear. Their labor was finished for the night but the labor of the Holy Man was just beginning.

The Lossoth had many tales, stories that even the Elves did not know, but Ix's tribe had tales of their own and those were the ones told tonight.

At first, Elm spoke only of recent years, of past parties of hunting men, and the history of the old Chiefs. He spoke of the other villages around their own, of the wars that they had fought and the treaties they had made for peace. An hour passed, and then another, and still the sweet-smelling smoke thickened and struggled to find its way out through the thin seams of the deer-skin tent.

And then, the stories changed. Elm began to walk the two young hunters back through the years. Over their heads, the stars reversed their course as the old healer spoke of distant days, of the great winter and the bitter cold. He spoke of the strange, summer-land King who had ridden up from Eriador on the wings of battle, how the Lossoth had helped him and how he had gone away west into a ship so large that it was like to an hundred canoes tied all together. But the great ship had not been stronger than the sea, and the tall waves had thrown it on its side. The ice-teeth of the wide waters devoured the wooden beams and swallowed whole all the men within.

And Elm went farther back, to the time when Ix's tribe had been but one small part of the larger Lossoth nation and had dwelt upon the Northern Cape of Forochel. Many families there were, long sundered, some gone east and some farther south, but Elm brought them back and set them together there. He brought back even the greedy folk that had left the Lossoth and built their own village under the mountains of the Black Hills. That people were gone now, all long gone, but the words of the Shaman breathed life into them once more.

The boys perked up their ears, eager to hear those things never spoken of, but Elm turned instead to the legends and the larger tales. He spoke of Little Namo, the old widow who fell in love with man in the moon and how, once a year, when his canoe sailed low upon the waves, he would drop down his ladder and she would climb up and sail the black sea of the sky with him. He told the many adventures of Wild Wolf, and some of the well-known wisdom of Old Whale, but these were all tales told back at the village and the night weighed heavily on the heads of the two boys. They propped open their eyes and were determined to listen, but the smoke of the fire had seeped in through their ears and they began to walk in dreams. Bram and Lom and Ix himself all heard and saw Wild Wolf and Black Crow, Old Whale and Fair Feathers; they heard their voices speaking together as if they were holding court outside the tent.

Elm knew his trade well, and he knew that now the time was ripe for the last of his tales and the greatest, the story of Takani and of Wilfomer the Dragon.

This was the tale that Ix had waited for and through his waking dreams, he heard Elm's voice speaking as if from a great distance and before his eyes he saw the man Takani striding over the snow-covered land with a black spear in his hand.

"Many, many years ago," Elm began, "in a time that even Old Whale has forgotten, there was a great Chief whose village was larger than all other villages east of the sea and his land covered many miles about the western end of barren Forodwaith. The son of the Chief was named Takani, and his daughter was Nagano.

"One day, Black Crow came to the village and perched upon the shoulder of the Chief, and said, 'Old Chief, the time is soon to come when you shall take your best canoe into the great, wide sea and search for the Sea King's realm. What then, Old Chief, will your people do when you are gone?' And then Black Crow flew away, but the Chief sat long in thought, not knowing what he should do.

"Now, Takani was the Chief's only son and thought himself the rightful heir, but Takani was also overbold. He knew nothing of fear and cared little for the gathering of wisdom. Nagano, his sister, however, was not very bold; she knew fear in her heart, and it made her wise. She was also brave and had killed many of the wild beasts of the land that threatened her father's village. She rode out often with the hunting party.

"Finally, after many days had passed, the old Chief called together all his people so that he might tell them who would be Chief after him. He summoned both his children to stand before him and said, 'Here are my son and daughter, both children of my heart and body, but I cannot chose between them. You know my children well, my people, which of them will you have for your Chief? Both have killed the great beasts and brought much food to our village. Both will lead you well, but differently. Which of them will you follow, my people?'

"And the people murmured together and were unsure, but Takani spoke up and he said, 'Father, surely I will be Chief after you. I am your only son, and Nagano is a woman."

" 'A woman may be as wise as a man,' the Chief said, 'and your sister has killed as many wild beasts as you have.'

" 'Nagano is wise and brave, and she fights well for a woman,' Takani answered, 'but when she marries, her husband will be Chief, and what will we say of him who we know not yet?' For Nagano had not chosen a husband nor yet had any suitors at that time.

"And then the people spoke in one voice, and they said, 'We will not call the husband of Nagano Chief, for we do not know who he is, but cannot a woman be a Wise Man and a Shaman? Cannot a man learn the skill of a healer and deliver the sons and daughters of our sisters and wives? Cannot Nagano be Chief even after she marries?'

"The old Chief nodded. 'All these things are true,' he said. 'Have you made your choice, my people?'

" 'We will follow Nagano,' they said. 'She is strong and brave, but also wise and just, and we do not trust the boldness of Takani.'

" 'So it shall be,' the old Chief said, and he passed his long spear to Nagano, and the following summer when the ice drew back from the waters, the old Chief set sail in his canoe, Nagano was called Chief.

"And yet, Takani was not satisfied. In his anger, he told all the people that he would show them the wrongness of their choice, and that he would go deep into the Forodwaith to fight with the greatest of beasts, the wild Worms who lived under the cold hills of the north. Nagano strove earnestly to dissuade her brother from this reckless course, for she loved him as dearly as she loved herself, but Takani would not be turned from his path. In the dark hours of the night, he set out into the wild lands with only the spear in his hand for a weapon."

From there, Elm went on to tell many of the adventures that befell Takani in the wild. He spoke of the great hunger that gnawed in his belly, of the bitterness of the cold wind and of Takani's anger that stalked him with more stubbornness than a starving wolf. Elm told of how Takani met Sly Fox and Fair Feathers, the lord of all sea birds; how he swam across the river of crushing ice and carried Wise Wolf upon his back; how, in thanks, Wise Wolf killed the fearsome Snow Bear and gave his white pelt to Takani for a cloak.

As the tale grew longer, Takani wandered farther into the ever-growing cold of the barren lands until finally he came to the mouth of a warm cave and found there the home of Wilfomer, the Dragon.

"Now, Wilfomer was indeed a very large and powerful worm," Elm went on, "But like the southern snakes that grow slow and sluggish when you place them on the cold snow, the dragons of the northern lands seldom move from their deep caves unless they are hunting the wastes for food and unwary travelers to feast upon. It is said that the dragons of the south have great piles of stolen treasure upon which they sleep, but there is little gold in the northern lands and the dragons there have very little to hoard. What they have, they guard jealously from thieves and from each other, always looking sideways at friend and enemy alike.

"It happened, however, that Takani came upon Wilfomer's hole while the dragon was out hunting and, leaving his heavy bear-skin outside, he entered the cave to warm himself. A wiser man might have stayed close to the door, the better to see the dragon returning and not be captured, but Takani was not wise and he wandered down deep along Wilfomer's halls until he came to the dragon's treasury and saw the many glittering jewels and golden coins that the old worm had stowed away.

"Wilfomer was also a very rich dragon, and he had more gold than most because he was always hunting and stealing from his neighbors.

"The anger was hot in Takani's breast and he thought to himself that the great treasure of the dragon might buy him his place as Chief over his sister. He was hypnotized by the gold, going from piece to piece, knowing that he had strength to carry only one thing but seeing always something better than what he held in his hands.

"For this reason, Takani was still deep down in the tunnels when Wilfomer came home. It was the old worm's habit to go straight to his treasury whenever he had been long gone and to count the gold that he had stored there to be sure that not a piece had gone missing. Takani heard the dragon coming and was forced to hide himself among the many tall pillars of stone that held up the roof of Wilfomer's great hall. But there is no hiding from a dragon in his own home. Wilfomer soon sniffed out the strange smell and knew that he was invaded. A thief will always know the scent of a thief.

" 'Well, now, where are you?' the dragon called, winding back and forth among the gray pillars and golden piles. 'What are you? A warrior come to slay himself a dragon?'

"But Takani knew no fear, and he laughed aloud until the sound of his voice echoed throughout the treasury and Wilfomer could not tell from which direction it had come. 'No, I am no slayer of dragons,' Takani said. 'That would be far too easy for me.'

" 'Too easy!' Wilfomer snapped his long jaws, and his tail whipped back and forth in his anger, striking one of the pillars and snapping it in two, but then he chuckled to himself. 'Ah, I see. You have undoubtedly killed some of my brothers in the south, but those weak worms are nothing to me. I have eaten the beasts of the northern wastes. I fought in the Wars of the West and escaped the great waves that washed over the land, drowning Men and Elves and Orcs and Dragons, too, but I was not drowned! What is a weakling, southern warrior to me?'

"Hearing this, Takani hesitated, but he still had not learned fear. He laughed again and said, 'I tell you, I have no need to kill a dragon. I came in to warm myself and to have a look at your treasure, to see if there is anything of value in it, but it is only gold and shiny stones. I have no need of them. I think that I might find something more to my liking in someone else's hall.'

" 'Mine is the finest hoard east of the sea!' Wilfomer roared. His great tail struck down another stone pillar and sent up a rain of golden coins onto Takani's head. But Takani darted away into the shadows and still the dragon did not see him.

" 'It is certainly fine,' he agreed, 'but there is nothing here that I cannot find in any dragon's hole. What do you have that no other worm can claim? What makes your hoard so much better than theirs?'

"Wilfomer opened his great mouth to speak, but then he closed it again and he frowned. What did he have that no other dragon could claim? He knew that his hoard held only gold and gems and other pretty things in greater abundance than any other treasury of the north, but there was no single thing that was greater.

"And then he remembered one thing that he had that was unique and no other creature could claim it. 'I have the stone of the Sea King,' he said proudly, 'a great gem from the sea. Do not ask how I came by it, but I swallowed it long ago and it lies deep in my belly where no thief can steal it, a jewel worth more than a mountain of treasure. Is that fine enough for you?'

" 'It would be very fine indeed, I suppose,' Takani said, and in his heart he knew it to be true. Such a jewel would certainly be worth the hearts and minds of his people and would buy him their love and his place as their Chief. 'But why should I believe that you have such a stone?' he asked. 'I might as easily say that I have the sun and the moon and all the waters of the sea in my belly, but you would not know it and you could not prove that I lie.'

" 'Lie!' Wilfomer shouted in his anger. 'I do not lie! But I need prove nothing to you, little thief, for I see you now and know your heart. You would steal my treasure from me! I will prove to you that there is no sun in your belly. I will tear you open and I would bet all my treasure that you are nothing but meat and bone inside.'

"And with that, Wilfomer lunged at Takani, for he had seen the man's shadow peaking out from behind the stone pillars, but Takani was swift and strong, and he leaped away. Around and around the treasury, the old worm chased the man. Though the dragon was slow and not so quick to run between the stone pillars, still Takani knew that if he should stumble or trip over his feet and fall, he would be eaten faster than he could speak his own name.

"Takani was not very wise, as you have seen, but the dragon was less wise than he, and anger drove him. Wilfomer's only thought was to catching the insolent warrior, and he often stumbled and slid over the frozen floor as he forced his slow body to run faster than it had in an hundred years. More than once, as he fell, the great worm's body would strike against the stone pillars, knocking them down or cracking them up the middle. Many large stones fell from the roof above, and Takani struggled to run between them and not be struck down, but Wilfomer was larger than he. One great boulder fell and struck the dragon fully on his back.

"He gasped. It was a heavier blow than he had felt since the great wars of the west, and his underside struck the floor so hard that the fiery breath was knocked from his belly. He choked, and a great belch of fire burst from his lips and out of the dragon's mouth flew a white-hot stone. Takani watched it skip along the floor until it came to rest at his feet.

" 'Ah-ha!' he cried. 'You were not lying, old worm. Here is the Sea King's jewel that you claimed to carry in your belly, but it is in your belly no longer. I have it now, and we shall see if you are clever enough to escape the collapse of your own house upon you.'

"And with that, Takani snatched up the stone, though it was very hot and burned his hand, and he ran as fast as he could out of the dragon's cave. Wilfomer tried to follow him, but he had damaged his halls too well and half his body was buried. The stones had already begun to fall faster than he could escape them. Indeed, the wide entrance to the cave itself had nearly fallen in and the only way out was through a very narrow gap just wide enough for Takani to slip through, but the dragon was trapped.

"Outside the cave, Takani took up his great, white cloak of bear's skin and threw it over his shoulders. He vanished, then, disappearing into the white snow-covered plain, but as he walked south and west, out of the Forodwaith, he could hear the roar of the dragon behind him, the raging wails of Wilfomer as he cursed Takani and the jewel that he had stolen.

"Takani had many more adventures on the long journey home, but always his heart turned toward his own village and the people that he had known. He longed to be welcomed back to them and to see his sister and hear her praise his great deeds. And yet, when many years had passed and he finally reached Nagano's village, there were no songs or celebrations to greet him. Takani's own people did not know him and they cringed away from him in fear, for his long beard was torn and full of mud and his body was thin; the right side of his face was burned by dragon's fire and he wore animal skins like the wild men of the east. Only Nagano recognized her own brother, and she welcomed him into her home where he was comforted and happy for a time.

"It was not long, however, before Takani's pride returned and he began to declare that he was a great man again and that Nagano must name him Chief. He offered the tale of his adventures as proof, and if he had returned with only tales and the skin of a bear, the people may indeed have been convinced, but after Takani told the tale of how he had tricked the dragon and stolen his treasure, he held up the Sea King's jewel as proof, then the people were afraid once more. They knew that it was foolish to anger the wild worms, and they said that the beasts would come looking for Takani and take their revenge on any village that harbored him.

"And so it was that Takani's own people drove him out of their village and pelted him with stones. They may have killed him even, but Nagano prevented them. She told Takani that he could not return to the village, but she gave him food and weapons and declared that any of her people who wished to follow him might go with her blessing, and that they might also return if ever they desired. Only Takani must not return.

" 'You have cursed me more than any dragon's stone, sister,' Takani said as he took his leave of Nagano. 'I had thought to find welcome under the roof of my kin, but I see now that I must always wander friendless and alone.'

" 'You are not alone, brother,' Nagano said. 'See, three score brave men and women go with you, but if you would return to my village as my brother, then cast away the stone that you carry. It is the stone that is cursed, Takani, not you. If it came once from the Sea King, then give it back to him. Cast it into the waves and let the wide waters wash it clean.'

"But Takani could not cast away the stone. 'I will not give up the treasure that I have won,' he said.

" 'Say rather the treasure that you have stolen, for stolen it was, even if it came from a dragon, and I say this also that any hand that steals that stone, from your hand or from any other, will be doubly cursed by the poison it carries for its evil will eat into the heart of the greedy and forever hold out of reach that which he most desires.

" 'Go now, brother,' she said. 'I love you, but you will never again be welcome under my roof or within the walls of my village.' And with that, Nagano turned her back on her brother, and Takani went away with those men and women who chose to follow him. They disappeared into the snow and were last seen heading south toward the Black Hills."

And so ended the tale, and Elm bowed his head. The tent was silent. Only the whispering wind could be heard outside and the lone cry of a distant wolf.

Sorry, no Durin brothers this chapter :(

I was told to write a dragon, and so I wrote a dragon. I hope you like him. His name is pronounced "will-fo'-mare" and he is the Groucho Marx of dragons ;). Full disclosure, I have always suspected that Betta's pearl is in fact Nimphelos that belonged to the Dwarves of Belegost, but it is only a secret suspicion of mine and we'll never know for sure...

On a more technical note, it has been brought to my attention that the website seems to be doing strange things to the formatting of my chapters and maybe even deleting random words from the text after I post. Although I do my best to review each chapter before and after the posting process, and correct the mistakes that I find, I just don't have the time to review every word every time. If you would like to PM me any typos that you find, I will do my best to correct them, but for now, I'm filing this one under "don't sweat the small stuff".

-Paint